the cop in my head
This poem was submitted with the following note attached: "the title of the first poem comes from the work of Augusto Boal; [...]" (Rest of note to be published at a later date.)
after boal
believes in hard work, in a flawed system we make the best of,
promises a book deal that will be prestigious, if not lucrative,
is smooth and shiny as a sanded off fingerprint,
believes in the law, but makes exceptions, but believes in the law,
works for the poetry foundation, believes in the poetry foundation,
believes in belonging as uncomplicated truth, destiny’s manifest,
is obsessed with “the body” and won’t shut up about it,
is so trapped in materials it wants to become one,
sent my father to prison, or tried,
does not fuck, especially does not fuck the wrong body,
prints pages and pages of numbers from its open mouth,
prints pages and pages of blood from its closed mouth,
does not believe in god, believes god distracts from good organizing,
understands no language but english, not even with the elbow,
does not know a constant anxiety or a hovering shame,
has a pension,
never forgets, holds out hope for the revival of a wholesale remembering,
and never believes that violence is the answer,
and never believes that violence is the answer,
just a question that those with full bellies
are permitted to ask,
again and again and again and again and again.
tonight,
i’ll kill the cop in my head. tomorrow
the ones outside it.
rehearsal for the revolution.
Fargo Tbakhi is a queer palestinian american writer and performer in phoenix, arizona. his work is published or forthcoming in Protean Mag, the Shallow Ends, Mizna, Peach Mag, and others. if you would like to fund his work, please find him online @YouKnowFargo.